


Take My Hand

by crystalkei



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Mentions of Cancer, Pining Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“She needs a kidney transplant.”</p><p>“Jesus, couldn’t she have the kind that just kills a person? She’s got the kind that has her begging for body parts from people she fucked over?” Bellamy asked.</p><p>Clarke started laughing. She covered her face and felt a tear fall but she was laughing.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He smirked though, he didn’t look sorry at all.</p><p>“That’s exactly what I thought too,” Clarke admitted. “Pancreatic cancer kills you quick, why didn’t she get that one?”</p><p>“These Baby Boomers, they got no respect,” he said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Hand

It was Monday night and Clarke was on her couch sobbing.

Again. 

So when Bellamy texted her and asked to come over, it was probably selfish, she should have said no, but she didn’t.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy asked when she answered the door, concern lacing his tone but his face was reserved.

She’d had twenty minutes to pull herself together, wash her face, put on some eyeliner, she was pretty sure that no one would have guessed that she’d been crying off and on for the last two weeks, but shit, Bellamy knew. Even if he pretended like he didn’t.

Clarke didn’t want to tell him about this, she didn’t want to tell anyone about this because she was a horrible person for half the thoughts that had crossed her mind in the last two weeks. He’d think she was awful. The last thing she wanted was for Bellamy, of all people, to think she was awful.

“Nothing,” she lied as she let him into her apartment. She leaned against the kitchen counter and he followed her.

He lifted up a reusable grocery bag shook it. “Sure, it’s nothing,” he said. “But what if I get you liquored up? Then what will you say?”

“Are there Oreos in there?” Clarke asked hopefully.

“One package of Double Stuffed for you and one package of Thins for me.”

Clarke gave him a weak smile. He knew her too well. God, she wished…

Bellamy unpacked the bag on the island. He got two glasses from the cupboard and poured her a drink of whatever he’d brought. She didn’t notice or care. She took both packages of Oreos to the couch and when he sat down on the opposite end of the couch, he handed her the drink. 

“I’m fine.”

“Like a 90s music video girl,” Bellamy teased.

“No, I mean I’m actually fine,” she argued. 

Bellamy didn’t respond, just opened his Oreo Thins.

“You’re a monster for not liking the cream, you know that?” Clarke shook her head.

“You’re a monster for putting that much shortening in your body. You know that’s the main ingredient in the cream, it’s corn syrup and shortening. The cream is just sweet _fat._ ”

“Wrong,” Clarke snapped. “It’s sweet, _delicious_ fat.”

“It’s too sweet,” Bellamy added.

“I’ve seen you eat an entire cake before.”  
  
Bellamy rolled his eyes. “I was high. That doesn’t count.”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. She kicked his thigh and he elbowed her calf, before trapping her foot under his arm and keeping it in his lap. He just didn’t want her to keep kicking him but Clarke had to repress the shiver that ran down her spine at the feel of his arm on her leg. Bellamy was, of course, unaffected.

It was better to tell him what was up before she said something worse.

“My mom has cancer,” she blurted out.

To his credit, he didn’t make a fuss. She was worried he might go into big brother mode and try to fix everything. It would only make her feel worse. Clarke didn’t want it to be fixed.

Without stopping his Oreo consumption, he nodded. Once he swallowed, he angled himself towards her more, but his arm stayed on her leg and she was so grateful for his grounding touch. “So you’ve got a lot of complicated feelings going on, huh?”

She was so proud of herself for not bursting into tears at that exact moment, instead she muttered a “yeah” and waited a minute for him to say something. He didn’t. But his hand brushed the top of her foot lightly, back and forth, it was soothing.

“I hate my mom.”

“I know,” he said without judgement. They’d talked about this before. 

“She needs a kidney transplant.”

This was the thing she really didn’t want him to know but she couldn’t help but tell him.

“Jesus, couldn’t she have the kind that just kills a person? She’s got the kind that has her begging for body parts from people she fucked over?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke started laughing. She covered her face and felt a tear fall but she was laughing.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He smirked though, he didn’t look sorry at all. 

“That’s exactly what I thought too,” Clarke admitted. “Pancreatic cancer kills you quick, why didn’t she get that one?”

“These Baby Boomers, they got no respect,” he said, his hand moving to her calf.

Clarke hoped he didn’t notice the way her skin flushed. How does someone make your calves blush? Jerk.

She cleared her throat and continued, “So I guess I’m a match. They told me this morning.”

“Why can’t she ask her other kid?” Bellamy asked annoyed.

“He’s like seven!”

“Okay, but my mom would have asked seven year old me.”

“Your mom was awful,” Clarke said plainly.

“Our moms could have a pretty close competition, but fine, I guess your mom eeks this one out for not asking your 2nd grader of a half brother.” Bellamy sighed. “Isn’t it a pretty dangerous surgery? I feel like they make a big deal out of it on _Grey’s Anatomy_.”

“You watch a lot of _Grey’s_?”

“It was Gina’s favorite, thanks for bringing up a painful breakup,” he said lightly.

“You brought it up,” Clarke teased.

“I brought up Meredith Grey and the skilled team at Seattle Grace. Totally different,” he said.

“Sorry.” Clarke made an exaggerated frowning face and Bellamy chuckled in response before becoming more somber.

“If you don’t want to give her your kidney, nobody is gonna judge you.”

Clarke looked away. She’d already decided to do it. She couldn’t not do it. But she’d imagined saying no. She’d imagined flipping off her mom and her mom’s doctors and her mom’s stupid husband and telling them all to fuck off. That’s what made her an awful person. That’s what she didn’t want him to know. That’s why he was the first and only person in her social circle to know about this.

And here was Bellamy telling her she didn’t have to do it. Giving her an out.

“Everyone will judge me,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said firmly. “I’ll punch those assholes in the face. You do what you want with your body.”

Clarke couldn’t look away. He held her eyes with a solid strength that made her want to start crying again. Of course, she’d been doing that a lot so maybe that wasn’t such an impressive feat. But still, he didn’t look away and she knew he meant it. His sincerity and support were overwhelming.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. That seemed to snap him out of his staring contest and he loosened up a little.

“I already decided I’d do it. I have to. But thank you,” she said, feeling the lump in her throat grow thicker.

“Who’s driving you? When is it happening? Can I make you a lasagna?” He asked the questions in rapid succession and Clarke didn’t want to hope but maybe.

“I was going to drive myself, just catch an Uber home, it’s tomorrow, I’m always accepting lasagna, but can it be the butternut squash kind?” She wiped at her eyes and he looked away.

She probably looked like a mess right now. He got up from the couch and headed back to the kitchen. He grabbed his coat off the counter and Clarke was still sitting on the couch suffering from the whiplash. She selfishly didn’t want him to go.

When he turned around he looked worried. “The store is gonna close so I’m gonna go get all the lasagna stuff right now. What time should I come back?”

“I think they’ll discharge me on Thursday so you can drop the lasagna off then, you don’t have to go to the store tonight,” Clarke said, still confused.

“No, I mean what time tomorrow morning, what time do you have to be at the hospital? Should I just come back here tonight and stay with you? I can sleep on the couch,” he offered and Clarke covered her mouth with a hand, feeling overwhelmed again.

“You don’t have to do that. You’re making a much bigger deal out of this than it is. _Grey’s Anatomy_ lied to you,” she tried.

Something flashed across his face quickly but she wasn’t sure what it was.

“Yeah, okay, just,” his hesitation made Clarke’s heart ache. “You can’t drive yourself to the hospital. That’s stupid,” he said with a scoff. “Can I drive you?”

“Tomorrow is your day off,” she said. “You don’t need to waste your day off getting up early and driving me to the hospital. Having you make a lasagna is asking a lot.”

“I won’t make a video of you coming out of anesthesia like all those people on the internet,” he promised.

“God, no, no to that and no to you staying and waiting for me, it’s your day off, remember?”

“I’ve got a firm grasp on my schedule, but if you really don’t want me to stay, I won’t,” Bellamy conceded.

“I’m not going to put you out like that.”

Bellamy shook his head. “What time am I picking you up?”

“I have to be to the hospital at seven.”

“I’ll be here at 6:30.”

“You don’t have to,” she repeated.

“Too late,” Bellamy said, fiddling with his phone. “Already set my alarm. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And then he was gone and Clarke started sobbing again.

 

\--

 

Bellamy’s leg shook while they sat in the surgical waiting area. He hadn’t taken off his coat but he also refused to just drop her off. He’d insisted on carrying her bags in, even her purse, he waited while she checked in, he made a few jokes about the form she was filling out.

“You’d think with as much money as your mom has funneled into this hospital they’d let you skip the paperwork,” Bellamy said with that smile that made her heart jump. “Where is your mom, anyway?” 

Clarke finished signing the last form with a flourish. “She’s already here, they admitted her yesterday to prep her, I guess?”

“Oh,” Bellamy said sheepishly. “Marcus going to come check on you, at least?”

“I asked him not to.” Clarke stood up and walked the few steps to the counter to hand in the form.

Bellamy’s leg kept shaking and Clarke fought the urge to put her hand on his knee when she sat back down. She didn’t have to fight it long though because they called her name from the counter.

“We’re ready for you,” a nurse said with a voice incredibly too cheerful for seven in the morning.

Clarke felt a sudden stab of fear. She had her tonsils removed when she was nine, she had a cyst removed when she was 19. It didn’t make sense that when she was 27 she was having this surgery. Shit. In the last four seconds she’d become a very superstitious person. She needed to wait two years to have this surgery. She needed to be 29 so the pattern made sense and she wouldn’t die on the table. That was probably going to happen. Her chest tightened and palms started to sweat.

“Hey,” Bellamy whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. “If you want to run the other direction, I still have my coat on and I knew the remote start on the car would come in handy one day. Just saying.”

Clarke pressed her lips together to stop a loud laugh from escaping. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and smiled at him before turning back to the nurse.

“Sorry, we’re ready,” she answered but the nurse frowned.

“I’m sorry, he can’t come with you,” the nurse replied.

“Oh, I didn’t mean,” Clarke started and Bellamy followed.

“It’s fine, I’m happy to wait right here.”

She turned back to him, giving him one last look, and then followed the nurse beyond the double doors.

 

\--

 

He was actually scrolling Facebook. His nerves had brought him to this point. Purposefully looking at Facebook. But not even the political rants and endless memes meant for grandmas could hold his attention. Looking up at the clock on the wall, he saw it was 7:10. He glanced back at his phone and felt like an idiot because the time was displayed there as well.

“Fuck!”  
  
Bellamy’s head turned swiftly towards the door, the shout floated to him as a burly guy in scrubs went through the door. When the door swung shut, the sound was gone.

He blew air out, as his legs shook anxiously, he scanned the waiting room. There were only a few other people in the room, but they were all occupied. Maybe there was a coffee machine somewhere, something to distract him for a while.

“It’s a long surgery, the cafeteria is serving breakfast and the coffee isn’t terrible down there,” another nurse at the counter said when Bellamy stood up to pace.

It occurred to him at that point that he hadn’t told Clarke he would stay the whole time. She told him he didn’t have to last night but really, he wasn’t sure she was thinking straight. He was trying to give her the proper amount of space, but she kept acting like this wasn’t a huge fucking deal and Bellamy couldn’t stand it. He knew she was trying to be brave or noble or some other bullshit but he could stand right by her to make sure she had someone there if she needed him. So that was that, mind made up, he was staying at least until he saw her after surgery.

Before he could ask the nurse directions to the cafeteria though, the door swung open again. He heard a little bit of a scuffle and man came to hold the door open.

“Bellamy, get in here,” Marcus Kane said, his face looking haggard.

He looked around at the nurse, silently asking permission but Kane waved his arm.

“There’s a goddamn wing of this hospital with her father’s name on it, let her boyfriend through.” 

The nurse looked chastised and Bellamy hated it. He grabbed Clarke’s bags, and walked towards Kane who was still holding the door.  
  
“We’re not dating,” he said, as he walked past Kane.

“She’s over there and she’s putting on a brave face but she won’t let me help so maybe she’ll let you,” Kane said, ignoring Bellamy’s correction.

The pre-op area had rows of beds, some beds had curtains pulled around them, but Clarke’s didn’t. There were two nurses and a doctor standing around her trying to get an IV in. When he was close enough he put down the bags and went to her side. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do though so he just stood awkwardly.

“Is it okay that Kane brought me back?” he asked, quietly, as the older nurse pushed a needle into Clarke’s arm.  
  
Clarke looked up at him and cringed, making Bellamy grimace. “Kind of a baby, aren’t you? It’s just a little needle,” he tried to joke, hoping to put her at ease. Immediately he felt every person look at him.

“Her veins are kind of difficult,” the younger nurse said.

“Your veins are difficult,” Bellamy said without thinking.

Everyone glared at him except Clarke who snorted. He decided he was okay with that.

Clarke reached for his hand, her fingers wiggling, and he gladly took it, welcoming the opportunity to help anyway he could. She squeezed his hand tightly as she shut her eyes and they tried again in her arm to get the IV inserted. That time she actually whimpered and he hated it.

Bellamy held his breath and hoped they’d get the IV quickly. From the looks of her arm, they’d tried too many times for his liking.

“Got it,” the older nurse said finally.  
  
Clarke let out a sigh of relief but didn’t let up on his hand. The nurses scattered for a few seconds before they came rushing back, checking wires, setting up tubes, hanging bags of whatever. He still felt awkward, standing sort of half bent over so he could be closer to her, they weren’t talking and he wished he could think of something funny to say. Something to lighten the mood again and make her feel more comfortable.

“I’m the anesthesiologist,” a woman in a doctor’s coat with a tight bun of black hair on top of her head introduced herself. “Dr. Lee.”

She shook Clarke’s hand, then Kane’s (Bellamy wasn’t sure why he was sticking around but he didn’t care to ask) then offered her hand to Bellamy. Clarke loosened her grip and Bellamy rubbed his fingers against his palm discreetly before shaking Dr. Lee’s hand. When he was done, Clarke grabbed for his hand again and he tried not to smile like an idiot.

“I’m the last person you’re going to see for a few hours, Clarke,” Dr. Lee said with a cordial smile. “The nurse is going to lean you back.”

As Dr. Lee narrated the process, the nurse laid the bed slowly down with a motorized hum, Clarke’s hand squeezed Bellamy’s tighter.

“Now I’m going to put this mask over your face and I’m going to ask you to count from 10 backward, alright?”

But as the mask hovered over her face, Clarke shook her head, panicked. Bellamy lowered himself so he could be right by her ear and glared at the doctor when the mask was shoved on Clarke’s face.

“What the hell? Give her a minute!” Bellamy scolded.

Dr. Lee gave him a look but she lifted the mask.

Bellamy looked back to Clarke and whispered, “Seriously, I’ve never used my remote start for something this cool. It’d be a really great story to tell at parties, nobody is gonna stop us except maybe that guy with the beard but honestly, I can take him.”

Clarke’s cheek was on the bed, turned away from everyone else, and she was looking at him so intensely. He saw a tear fall from her eye and he swiped at it with his thumb.

“Are you going to be here when I wake up?” she asked, meekly.

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else,” Bellamy replied, trying to sound like he wasn’t suddenly terrified for her. “I googled it last night, by the way. You were right, _Grey’s Anatomy_ made it sound way scarier than it is.”  
  
“You googled it?” she asked with a watery smile.

“Yeah, we didn’t all drop out of med school.”

“She dropped out of med school?” the younger nurse asked, reminding Bellamy they were not alone.

“Don’t worry, she’s the best clinical psychologist in town,” he said without tearing his eyes away from Clarke.

She blushed and he was happy to see the color on her face. When she turned back to Dr. Lee, Bellamy stood up, hand still holding hers, and Clarke nodded her head.  
  
“Sorry,” she said, quietly. “I’m ready now.”

“Countdown from 10.” Dr. Lee put the mask over Clarke’s face and began to count with Clarke.

At first, her grip on his hand tightened, but as she counted and breathed in the anesthesia, her fingers went slack. Bellamy lifted her hand to his mouth for a quick kiss (for luck, he told himself) and then they wheeled her away.

“You look about as nervous as I feel,” Kane offered, his hand scratching at his unkempt beard.

Bellamy only gave Kane his attention once Clarke was out of his sight, so he turned to him after they pushed Clarke through another set of double doors at the other end of the room.

“Where’s Abby?” he asked, flatly.

“They took her in right before they brought Clarke back,” Kane explained. “You want to get some coffee? It’s a couple of hours before we’ll get to see them.”

“Not with you,” Bellamy said, evenly. “Thanks for telling the nurse to let me back here. I’m gonna get my laptop from the car and get some work done.”

“They’ll be fine, the best surgeons in the hospital are performing the operation,” Kane said as though Bellamy hadn’t shot him down.

He wondered if Kane ever actually listened to what people were saying.

Bellamy hated Marcus Kane and Abby Griffin on principle. Kane wasn’t even Abby’s first affair, she just happened to be the affair that was happening when Clarke’s father was in a fatal car accident, Clarke theorized that Abby decided to stick with Marcus after that out of guilt. But from Bellamy’s run ins with him, he was an arrogant prick who spent a lot of time pretending Clarke needed him as a father figure. Marcus Kane thought everyone needed a father figure and he was just the guy to do it. It was unbearable.

“See you in three hours,” Bellamy said with a mock salute before walking away.

 

\--

 

Bellamy did manage to get some work done. Though he’d need to have someone check all the paperwork again, he was definitely distracted while he’d done it and didn’t feel like ending up with 200 copies of the latest Pulitzer Prize winning novel instead of 20 for the library. Harper would proof everything when she ordered, thank god.

“She’s coming out now,” the nurse at the desk told him.

He stood up so fast that he almost dropped his laptop, he’d forgotten it was on his lap. He shoved it in his bag and grabbed Clarke’s bags and followed the tall nurse down a long hall. As he walked, he noticed not all of the recovery rooms were created equally. Several had two beds in them, but as they neared the end of the hall the rooms got nicer. Better decor, more windows, and just one bed in each.

“She’s in here.” The nurse gestured with his arm to one of the nicer rooms.

Bellamy nodded his thanks and noticed across the hall the tag on the outside of the room said Abby Griffin. He groaned internally. The last thing he wanted was for Clarke to be close to her mom.

Clarke was still hooked up to tubes and there were beeping monitors around her bed, but she looked like she was sleeping, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. He didn’t want to admit how relieved he was that she was even alive. It was stupid to worry that much about your best friend but here he was.

“You can put all the bags there,” the nurse mentioned as he fiddled with some of the monitors around her bed. “We didn’t know you’d be here so we’ll get you a chair.”

“I’m fine,” Bellamy said, setting the bags down in the corner and out of the way.

“You’re going to need somewhere to sit,” the man said. “Pull that stool up for now, and if she throws up more than twice, hit this button. I’ll be back in a minute." 

He grabbed the stool and rolled it over to the spot next to Clarke’s bed, found the tv remote and turned it on, surfing the channels for something to watch when Clarke started to stir.

“Bellamy,” she mumbled, causing him to drop the remote in surprise. “My legs feel tingly.”

He brushed some hair out of her face as an excuse to touch her and smiled. “They’ll feel normal in a little bit.”

“Have you seen the scar? It’s hideous isn’t it? No one will ever want to bang a girl with a scar like that,” Clarke said, her words slurred. 

“I dunno, I think you’ll still be able to get laid,” Bellamy said, playfully.

He told her he wouldn’t take video of this but he could see the appeal now. He wouldn’t, but he wanted to. Before he could think about it further she was clumsily trying to remove her hospital gown from her belly. Bellamy reached for her hand and took it.

“Hey, hey, you shouldn’t do that.”

“You gotta see the scar, so you can decide if you want to sleep with me!” she said, forcefully.

Bellamy choked, when he recovered he decided she wouldn’t remember any of this later so he figured it couldn’t hurt anything to tell her the truth.

“If you wanted to sleep with me, there’s not a lot that would stop me, Clarke, but I think you’re just drugged.”

“I wanna go to sleep,” Clarke said. “With you. Always with you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Clarke,” Bellamy replied, trying to see the humor in the situation and not think beyond it. She was out of her goddamn mind, that’s why she was saying these things. “As a matter of fact, I know a woman with a scar like that, she’s the hottest. Human embodiment of the fire emoji.”

“Shit, now I have to watch you date someone awesome again. She’s gonna be great which makes it really hard to hate her, it’s gonna be just like Gina. Gina was so nice. And hot. And she totally got your nerdiness. I wanted to hate her so much. But she was so...Gina was real!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her. But when he’d gotten a handle on himself, her words started to sink in and he didn’t want to hope so he just kept pushing non existent hair out of her face as an excuse to touch her beyond the way she had his other hand in a hers, her fingers stretching and moving around, like she was verifying his authenticity.

“I’m gonna throw up,” she said, breaking the spell.

Thinking fast, he grabbed the plastic basin from the tray near him and got it underneath her just in time.

“That chair looks uncomfortable,” she said, after making a disgusted face at the container full of her vomit. “You can’t stay here all night in that chair. I’ll make room for you on this bed.” 

Bellamy snorted. “The nurse said they’d bring me a better chair. Don’t move, you’ve got too many things going on. I want your IV to stay right where it is because that process was traumatizing for me.”

“You should go. No one deserves this,” Clarke said.

“I’ve cleaned up way worse in college, remember that party Miller and Bryan threw? I had a final the next day and was the only sober one. I cleaned up some things that I’d like to have removed the way Octavia got that tattoo removed.”

“That tramp stamp had to go, a rose, above her ass crack, what was she thinking?” Clarke asked, sounding very much like her normal lucid self. “Is she ever going to stop hating me? Probably not. I can’t believe you managed to raise her. Let’s not have kids. Our moms are so shitty and our families are so shitty. Who even wants to parent, right?”

So much for lucid.

“My dad loved me, and then he died. My mom only had me because she thought that would make her like my dad. What’s wrong with her, what kind of a grotesque woman does that?”

Before he could stop her or answer, her eyes got wide and she started heaving. Bellamy hit the button to call the nurse.

 

\--

 

Clarke remembered flashes of the fluorescent lights above her on the ceiling. Then she remembered her mouth feeling cottony. After that she remembered Bellamy smiling and laughing, he was touching her face and she tightened her grip on his hand and everything was fuzzy for a minute.

“Her vitals are still fine, her heart rate was a little higher than we like it to be but we’ll just keep monitoring her, if you’d like to step across the hall we’ll talk about her mother.”

Clarke could see the outline of a doctor, the stupid beard of her mother’s husband, and her fingers flexed oddly, she felt a hand entwined with hers.

“So she’s fine? Okay that’s nice to hear thanks,” Bellamy’s annoyed voice broke through her fog. “This is so fun. We should egg that surgeon’s car later.”

Clarke tried to speak but it took her a few tries. “We’re adults,” she finally managed. “We can’t egg someone’s car.”

“We could. How fast can you run? I mean, not right now obviously, but normally?” he asked her like she wasn’t just waking up from surgery.

Her mouth tasted acidic.

“Did I throw up?”

“Several times,” Bellamy explained, he reached around her and brought a tan, plastic basin to her lap. “If you’re going to do it again, I’ll hit the button.”

“No, I…” Clarke paused, working her jaw. “I can taste it.”

Bellamy stood up, letting go of her hand and Clarke wiggled her fingers uncomfortably. He came back offering her a cup with a straw.  
  
“Here, they gave you some drug that’s supposed to stop the puking so hopefully that’s over.”

She took it and sipped slowly, trying to rid her mouth of the taste. Clarke glanced towards the windows and saw the sun was setting. She also noticed Bellamy’s laptop out and he’d gotten into her bag, she wasn’t sure what he’d done, until her cheek brushed her pillow.

“Have you been here all day?”

“Yeah.”  
  
“And you got my pillow out of my bag?” she asked.

“Actually it’s just your pillowcase on a hospital pillow,” Bellamy explained. “They made a fuss about your pillow so I worked around the problem.”

“You didn’t have to do all that, I’m probably keeping you from something more important,” Clarke said, worried she’d ruined his whole day with her panic and her being cut open and then apparently puking on him.

“My schedule is pretty boring and this is definitely the most important thing on it today,” he said, looking at her with what she was sure was pity.

“Oh god, I forgot about my mom, I’m a horrible person.” Clarke could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. This was all too much.

“You’re not. And she’s fine.” Bellamy said, he took her hand again, his fingers slipping against hers easily. “Wanna hear something great? No one can ever say you’re horrible because you gave your mom one of your fuckin’ kidneys. That’s a pass to sainthood. Really.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I can't figure out how I feel about my mother, my personal life is-”

Bellamy cut her off, “You proclaimed your undying love for me a couple hours ago coming out of the anesthesia so your love life is at least tidy.”

“I... what?” Clarke asked in a shrill, shocked voice.

“Yeah.” Bellamy nodded like it was the most normal thing and Clarke’s heart started to race.

“And you're still here? You didn't run screaming from the building?”

“I'd wheel you up to the chapel myself if someone would marry us just so I could stop seeing your mom’s stupid husband every three hours. I’d love it if the doctor could give _me_ an update on how you're doing without Kane having to stand there under the guise of some kind of violation of privacy since I’m not a _family member_.”

It might have been the anesthesia finally wearing off but her whole body felt a little tingly at his words. He stood next to her expectantly, his thumb running along the side of her hand.

“That chair looks different,” she said, dumbly.

What was she supposed to say to him? She couldn’t believe what was happening and she was a mortified, especially as she was unable to remember what she’d said coming out of surgery.

“You remember the chair but not the other stuff?” Bellamy asked and Clarke shrugged. “They got me one that folds out so I can sleep on it. I can keep holding your hand, too, since you won’t let go of mine.”

“Are you sure you want to stay with me?” she managed to get out before the tears started to fall.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Of course I want to stay with you.”

“I read that I can’t have sex for like a week after this,” Clarke said, seriously.

“Nurse Denton, is she still loopy from the anesthesia?” Bellamy asked ,as a woman in scrubs walked into the room, heading straight for Clarke’s other side to check the monitors.

“She should be fine now, it’s been hours, even the Phenergan has worn off,” the nurse said. “Do you feel like you’re gonna vomit again, sweetie?”

Clarke shook her head.

“Good, they’re going to bring you by some dinner, in a few, but you don’t have to eat it if you’re not ready.”

“Thank you,” she said, hoping desperately that the nurse hadn’t heard what she’d said right before.

“You know my nurse’s name?” Clarke asked him, quietly, as the woman walked out.

“She just came on at shift change. I tried to recruit the guy before into our dodgeball league. He was huge,” Bellamy said with a half smile. “Also, not saying that I asked, because that would be weird with Kane standing in the room, but I did some reading and you can have sex whenever you feel up to it. And you said you didn’t want kids which is really okay with me.” 

Clarke let go of his hand so she could cover her face.

“Did I say anything that wasn’t humiliating?” She peeked between her hands to see Bellamy rub at his chin.

“The part where you said you loved me wasn’t bad at all. I wasn’t sure you meant it, but as you went on I decided it made perfect sense and that I was pretty confident in my feelings of loving you right back.”

Bellamy reached for her wrist and tugged very gently. She let him pull her hand from her face and slip his fingers in between hers.

“I’m really into this, by the way. I even sent off a few work emails one handed,” he said, keeping his eyes on their joined hands. “I was hoping we could keep doing this.”

Clarke wiped at her eyes with her free hand.

“I’m sorry, I feel like all I’ve done is cry for the last two weeks, it’s one of the reasons I didn’t tell anyone about my mom and this surgery, I’m a wreck.”

“You had a good excuse, an even better excuse now,” Bellamy added.

“Having only one kidney makes a person cry more?”

“I assume it's listed on webmd as one of the side effects.”

Clarke laughed. “Did you say something about marrying me today?”

He looked away but she could tell he was smiling. “Every couple of hours when the doctor comes in to check on you, he can’t tell me anything because I’m not family. They drag Kane in here from across the hall and I just have to listen to what they tell him. It’s frustrating. I’m glad you’re up now so they won’t have to do that.”

“Your solution to that problem was to marry me?” Clarke asked with a snort.

“I’m a problem solver,” he said, leaning closer to her.

“The library is lucky to have such a skilled leader at the helm,” she said, before sighing content.

“They are, right?” Bellamy’s smile was smug.

She let go of his hand and tried to sit up to get closer to him.

“Whoa, whoa, lean back, you just had surgery!” he said, moving closer to her again, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“Thanks for reminding me, I’d forgotten,” she said, dryly. “I wanted to kiss you, dummy!” Her lower lip jutted out in a pout.

“Let the person who wasn’t just operated on do the hard work of moving then!” he argued, before his lips met hers.

He was bent at a strange angle to get to her over the plastic rails on the side of her bed so all she could do was take his hand again as he kissed her.

It wasn’t deep or urgent. It was gentle and calm, delicate even. She would have been annoyed, she’d waited years for this, but she felt her body pushing back, feeling exhausted, and it didn’t take much for her to feel breathless.

Bellamy pulled away, gulping in air.

“I’m feeling pretty sleepy but I don’t want to go to sleep if you won’t be here when I wake up,” Clarke admitted. “This whole ordeal with my mom has made me feel selfish and awful so I’m gonna embrace that right now.”

“Like I said, you’re allowed to be selfish. They removed one of your organs today,” Bellamy said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”  
  
Clarke smiled, but she felt her eyes getting droopy. “I love you, I thought you’d maybe want to hear it while I wasn’t drugged, is it okay to say it?”

“Beyond okay,” Bellamy replied, squeezing her hand. “I love you, too.”

“Awesome, I’m gonna sleep now.”

“See you when you wake up,” she vaguely heard him say as she drifted off.

 


End file.
